Every time my cell goes off, my heart lurches into my throat, thinking it’s going to be the results, and a multitude of emotions collide within me as I think about both options.
I’m fucking terrified that they’re going to be positive. That I’m going to be responsible for another human being. That I’ll have entangled some innocent woman in my chaotic life.
But then I think about it being negative, and I swear a little grief passes through me.
It’s weird. It should be relief.
It’s crazy, but there’s a part of me, this really small part buried way, way down, that craves the normality of being a part of a family.
My childhood was probably the calmest, happiest time of my life. What if I could find that again, but as an adult? Would ithelp banish the demons and the darkness, the need to always win? Or would it do the opposite? If I’m a shit father, will it highlight all my failings and flaws and drag me deeper as I ruin someone else’s life right alongside mine?
The not knowing is driving me crazy. I just need answers.
I like control. I like making my own decisions. This…this is so far out of my comfort zone I’m not even sure I can see it.
It’s the off-season. I should be enjoying myself, and yet, here I am, locked in my apartment, terrified that if I step out, I’ll do something stupid.
Hailee’s warnings ring loudly in my ears.
I can’t get traded again…I just can’t.
This is where I belong. I need to find a way to prove it to everyone.
As the days go on, the walls begin to close in around me.
I need to get out. I need to see people. I need to do something.
My cell taunts me. Her contact is on there. I said that I’d message her. But what the hell am I meant to say?
Hey, this is your maybe baby daddy. How’s it going?
I shake my head.
I just need the results. If I have them, then at least I know which direction my life is about to go in.
Sinking my fingers into my hair, I slump back on my couch.
My cell buzzes, and after a few minutes, I lift it up and stare at the screen and our guys’ chat group as the notifications begin to flood in.
Killer: Anyone wanna go for food?
Handsy: Sorry, I have plans with my hot chef.
Monroe: I’m hungry. Where are we eating?
Storm: I’d love to, but I’m currently enjoying watching my girl rock a bikini on the beach.
“Ugh,” I groan.
Killer: @Big D, you in?
Silence.
It’s not exactly a surprise. Kodie is the least talkative out of the little group I’ve been invited into.
Killer: @Donny hungry?
“Fuck,” I grunt before finally unlocking my cell and opening the message thread.
